Her Royal Highness: A Romance of the Chancelleries of Europe

by William Le Queux

causing him toreel, stumble, and fall.

  His assailants, of whom there were two--who had apparently been lying inwait for him--bent quickly over his prostrate form with keen knivesdrawn, when Hubert's hand shot out and next second one of the menstaggered back with a revolver bullet in his stomach. So swiftly hadthe Englishman defended himself that the second man, ere he could usehis knife, received a bullet in the cheek, whereupon the pair bothwounded and in fear because of the alarm caused by the report of theexplosions, slipped round the corner and were well out of sight before apoliceman from the neighbouring piazza came running up eagerly todiscover what was wrong.

  The whole affair happened within a few seconds, but never had HubertWaldron been nearer death than at that moment.

  His presence of mind to draw his weapon which he had carried loose inthe pocket of his cloak, and at the same time to fall heavily as thoughstunned and unconscious, had saved his life. Had he simply fallen backagainst the wall his assailants' knives would, no doubt, have beenburied in his heart ere he could have fired.

  He had escaped death by an ace.

  The policeman, on arrival, found him standing with his back to the wall,recovering from the sudden shock.

  "Two men knocked me down," he replied in answer to the police agent."But I fired at them. Hit both the brutes, I believe," and he laughed.

  "_Dio_! Which way did they go?" asked the man.

  "Round there, to the left, into the Via Vicenza, I believe. But you'llnever find them. Besides I didn't see them well enough to be able torecognise them again."

  "The signore is a diplomat, I see. May I not know his name, for thepurpose of my report?"

  "No," replied Waldron, for he was not anxious that Ghelardi should learnof the incident, as no doubt he would, if formal report were made that aBritish diplomat had been attacked in the streets. "It's nothing," hesaid. "They tried to rob me, that's all."

  And then placing ten francs in the man's hand he picked up his cockedhat and went his way.

  What Lola had told him was the truth. But how could she possibly haveknown that such a desperate attempt was about to be made?

  What motive could there be to seal his lips, save because he wasendeavouring to see a solution of the mystery of the missing plans!

  Was it possible that those two assassins whom Pucci knew to be two ofthe most desperate characters in Rome were the hirelings of GeneralCataldi?

  On his way homeward that theory became more than ever impressed uponhim. His Excellency was guilty of connivance at the theft, and knowingthat he was near arriving at a solution of the mystery, intended thathis mouth should be closed.

  After he had bathed the injury to his head, he threw himself into hischair and sat for a long time pondering, trying to make up his mind how,in face of the present situation, he should act. Was it possible thatLola, being friendly with the Countess Cioni, had somehow learned of theGeneral's fears, and had obtained information as to the projected plot?If so, why did not Her Highness, so friendly was she, reveal to him thewhole strange truth?

  No. There was some curious element of mystery in her attitude towardshim. She was concealing something--but what it was he could not in theleast discern. He loved her--ay, better than any man had ever loved awoman. He regarded her as his sole ideal, for before her all otherfeminine beauty faded. He, who had run the whole gamut of gaiety in theexclusive Society of the capitals; he who had trodden the diplomaticstage of Europe ever since a child, had at last met the one woman whowas sweet perfection; the one woman before whom he had thrown himselfupon his knees and worshipped--on that fatal night when his enemy had,alas! discovered him.

  And yet the situation seemed so utterly hopeless. His love was, afterall, but a hollow mockery, and could only lead to grief and blackdespair, while his utter failure to trace the hand which had stolen theplans was, he knew, causing His Majesty to lose all faith in him. Hehad been in Brussels upon a mysterious errand instead of carrying outHis Majesty's desire.

  Italy was at that moment menaced on every side. Complications hadarisen with Turkey during the past week or two, while her relations withFrance were not of the best regarding certain Customs tariffs whichFrance had suddenly risen in order to further strangle Italian trade.

  Yes, indeed, the time was now absolutely ripe for Austria to strike herlong-premeditated blow. And if she did, then Italy, in her state ofunpreparedness, and her serious quarrel with Turkey regarding Tripoli,must, alas! succumb.

  Next morning, when Peters brought Hubert the _Tribuna_ in bed as usual,he saw an announcement that His Excellency General Cataldi, Minister ofWar, was leaving that evening for Lyons, to visit his brother, who waslying dangerously ill there.

  Why that sudden journey? he thought. The news had no doubt beencommunicated to the Press by His Excellency himself.

  During the day he reflected upon the matter many times, until at sixo'clock that evening, dressed in an old tweed suit, and presenting theappearance of a ten-day-ten-guinea tourist, he entered a second-classcompartment of the Paris _rapide_--having first watched the General intothe sleeping-car.

  That evening he dined upon a roll and a piece of uncooked ham which hebought at the station, and that night he spent crossing the wild, drearyMaremme marshes in sleepless discomfort, for the Italian railwayadministrative are not over-generous towards the second-class traveller.

  By Pisa, with a glimpse of its white Leaning Tower, Carrara with itsdazzling white marble quarries, Genoa, Turin, and the glorious sceneryof the Mont Cenis, they at last gained France, until at last, late onthe following day, they arrived at the long, inartistic station ofCuloz, and there, watching intently, he saw the General in his fur-linedovercoat and felt hat descend, and change into the train for Lyons, anaction which he himself followed.

  On gaining Lyons, however, His Excellency, who was alone and quiteunconscious that he was being followed, entered the big buffet of theterminus, and having waited there an hour, purchased a ticket for Tours.

  The story of the invalid brother was at once exploded! He had leftItaly with some other object in view.

  Travelling by a slow train across the mountains, they did not arrive inthe pretty capital of Touraine until early next morning, and then theGeneral, entering the omnibus of the Hotel de l'Univers, drove down thewide Boulevard Heurteloup, while Hubert went to a rival house, theMetropol, in the Place du Palais-de-Justice.

  An hour later, however, he called at the Univers, and by means of ajudicious tip to the under-concierge--the concierge being absent--discovered that the Italian gentleman who had arrived had given the nameof Conio--Emilio Conio, of Milan, he had written in the register.

  The Englishman now saw that the object of the Minister's journey was, nodoubt, to keep some secret appointment. Therefore he decided to riskdetection and transfer his quarters to the Univers, which he promptlydid.

  Through all the day he watched the General very closely. During themorning, overcome by his journey, His Excellency slept, and not untilfour o'clock did he come down to idle in the lounge. Then after half anhour he crossed the Place and entered one of the cafes there for a_vermouth_.

  His attitude was as though he expected someone who had not arrived.

  Hubert smiled within himself when he reflected how he had followed thisman who had bribed assassins to take his life, and how utterlyunconscious he now was of being watched.

  "The Italian gentleman is expecting a certain Herr Steinberg, of Berlin,to-night," the assistant concierge whispered to Hubert when he enteredthe hotel just before dinner. "He is to arrive at ten o'clockto-night."

  And then, as his hands closed over the louis which the Englishmanproduced, he added:

  "I will let you know, by a note to your room, m'sieur."

  Hubert, fearing to meet His Excellency in the salle a manger, went outand dined at the Curassier, a noted restaurant in the Rue Nationale, anddid not return before half-past ten.

  In his room he found a scribbled line as arranged.


  Then, descending by the lift, he sought the assistant concierge, andfrom him discovered that the pair were in consultation in room Number164.

  "Yes, I believe there is a door between that and the next room,m'sieur," the man replied.

  "Good. Then get me the key for an hour or so, and I will make it allright with you."

  The profession of concierge is synonymous of bribery. No concierge inEurope lives upon his stipend. Hence within ten minutes Hubert wascrouched against the door of the adjoining room, listening to theconversation of the Italian Minister of War and the stranger fromBerlin--a conversation which certainly proved highly instructive.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

  GOVERNMENT SECRETS.

  Like most doors separating rooms in Continental hotels those of theUnivers at Tours were no exception. They were thin, and Hubert,kneeling with his ear to the crack, could distinctly hear theconversation between the Cabinet Minister who was